


Let Me Hold You

by mockingdaze



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, percabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:16:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockingdaze/pseuds/mockingdaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy's sick and afraid of thunder. Annabeth's bad at comforting people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Hold You

Why is all Annabeth can think. She’s very, very smart, but she can’t for the life of her figure out why her neighbor from down the hall is curled up and shaking in the middle of Walmart at three o’clock in the morning. Why.

“Uh…” What was his name again? “Peter? No-- Percy? Are you okay, Percy?”

The man shakes his head. His basket is on its side nearby, spilling out a bag of chips and a bottle of Nyquil. Is he sick?

It has been raining all day, and a particularly loud bang of thunder makes her neighbor jump.

“Is it the storm?”

Annabeth thinks he nods. To be honest, she’s still pretty damn confused-- the guy’s, what, twenty-five? And she distinctly remembers him coming home from shifts at the fire department. How can he walk straight into a burning building and still be so… infantile?

But then she hears him whimper, and her thoughts about his manliness are pushed to the side as she drops to her knees beside him. Her hand pats his broad back hesitantly. “Hey,” she says in what she hopes is a soothing voice. “It’s okay. It’s just a little rain.”

Outside the wind picks up, and Percy flinches. Annabeth sighs. “Oh, Percy,” she mutters. The cold tile hits her backside as she settles down to wrap an arm around his shivering frame. She glances around. Where are the employees when you need them?

Percy’s shaking hard. He’s warm and broad, and her arm barely fits around him. Annabeth tentatively cards her fingers through his dark hair and sighs; she’s never been good at comforting people. Her first instinct is to bottle everything up until she’s alone and scream into a pillow because emotions are… tricky. In the lifestyle she’s heading towards (currently on track to managing at one of the top architect firms in the country) any soft spots can and will be exploited, and she guesses she’s already preparing herself for that. But her hesitation towards expressing herself leads her to be a little less sensitive towards other people as she would like to be.

So she strokes Percy’s back and plays with his hair and prays someone who’s better at this will show up soon. It’s working a little, at least-- Percy stops shivering and his breathing becomes a little more steady. Annabeth sighs in relief.

After a while, Percy lifts his head. His usually bright green eyes are bloodshot and his face is splotchy. He looks like death itself, but he somehow manages to smile at Annabeth. “Thanks,” he rasps. He turns his head to cough into his elbow and groans.

“No problem,” Annabeth assures. She’s hesitant to untangle herself from him considering he still seems pretty unsteady. She also has to know. “Why are you so scared of thunderstorms?”

Percy laughs throatily, head falling back on the shelf they’re leaning against. “A bunch of awful family shit from when I was younger. Might tell you about it someday.” His head turns toward her. She’s more than a little relieved that the usual mischievous light in his eyes seems to be returning, however weakly. “Which,” Percy announces, “would be a lot sooner if you let me take you out to dinner when I’m not dying in the middle of a grocery store.”

Annabeth blinks.

Percy grins at her and collects his fallen things. He’s up and helping her stand as if he wasn’t incapacitated just a few minutes ago.

He looks at her expectantly. She says yes because she’s curious.


End file.
